


Watch Me

by stringingwords



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 08:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11376732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stringingwords/pseuds/stringingwords
Summary: A tiny, tiny one-shot, also in response to a tumblr prompt.





	Watch Me

‘Ah, la belle Odette,’ Michel beamed, nodding towards the door at the woman in question.

Diana turned her head to watch the woman enter, looking a little flustered as she removed her hat and swept back the wet strands of hair that had escaped her bun. She sat tiredly at the bar and ordered, what Diana guessed, would be a hot chocolate. She had been absolutely enamored by the drink since coming to Paris to oversee the exhibition. Not that Diana had noticed. Not that she was watching.

‘She does have a sort of ‘charme’, doesn’t she? More than just looks,’ Jean-Paul agreed.

‘She is a warrior,’ Diana said simply.

At this, Jean-Paul laughed openly and Michel nearly choked on his drink.

‘A warrior?’ Michel echoed disbelievingly. ‘Have you seen her try to lift one of the amphoras she’s so proud of?’

‘Have you seen her eyes flash whenever anyone tries to touch those amphorae without protective gloves? You are foolish to think anything else.’ she countered calmly.

And there was more to Odette that reminded her of home. The way she grew an inch taller when talking about her archaeological finds, stance confident, voice sure, commanding; paying little mind to the meek and subservient role she was expected to fill. How she’d flushed with pleasure at discovering that Diana was fluent in more ancient languages than she, and insisted on greeting her in Ancient Greek when they crossed in the halls. Her rich, ebony skin that brought back memories of sun-kissed days filled with hard training. 

They stirred something in her. Camaraderie. Pride. The will to protect. And perhaps something more. Something that teased the edge of her mouth into a smile when she thought of her.

‘I think I’m going to ask her to the ball,’ Jean-Paul declared, interrupting her thoughts.

‘Oh, mais non, Jean-Paul, you are practically engaged. Chloé will kill you if you ask another woman.’

‘I just want to dance with her,’ he countered defensively.

‘Eh, look to the future mother of your children, ei?’

‘I will ask her,’ Diana cut in, rendering them both speechless.

‘What do you mean?’ Michel probed after a confused pause.

‘To the ball. You are both taken, but I am not.’

At this both men chuckled.

‘You cannot ask her to the ball, Diana,’ Jean-Paul patronized.

‘And why not? Is that not what one does in your society when one finds the other party…interesting?’

‘Oui, mais not between women. A woman cannot ask another woman to a ball. It is not naturel.’

‘That is a very strange idea.' Her nose wrinkled as she tried to wrap her head around it. 'And what would happen if I did?’

‘Oh, it is simply not done, Diana. You understand, non?’

‘Not done?’ she smiled a little, adding it to the long list of occasions in which she’d been told that. ‘Watch me.’

And the two men did just that as she rose elegantly and approached the woman at the bar.


End file.
